


Residet

by soupypictures



Series: Finally, Finally [2]
Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupypictures/pseuds/soupypictures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re a secret family in London, but they don’t stay secret forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Residet

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo you can blame actualite for this one, too. “Residet” means “he settles” (or something like it) and has a quiet flavor to it. If you find yourself rolling your eyes at parts, take heart that it was intended. ;)

Michael is standing with the team for the first time since Sydney while the United States flag is raised for the 400-meter individual medley medal ceremony. In Sydney he’d watched Tom Malchow and a baby-faced Erik Vendt stand on the gold and silver podiums. In Athens, he’d replaced Malchow. Beijing was served with Ryan to his left, panic and nausea simmering in him and their child only a little clutch of tissue safely ensconced in his abdomen.  
  
But London. London.  
  
He'd gotten Ryan’s mom to hand over Ellis and he's pretending not to notice the venue attendant who is politely trying to get his attention to tell him that children are not allowed in this section of the stands, sir, they must remain where their ticketed adult is standing. Ellis claps happily when the video board shows Ryan behind the middle of the podium, about to step up to receive his medal.  
  
“It's Deezy, Daddy!”  
  
Michael shushes her, immediately feels silly for doing so, and holds her close. “Yeah, he won the gold medal, honey.”  
  
Ellis looks up at Michael. “What did you win?”  
  
Michael smiles and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I didn't win anything this time.”  
  
Ellis pouts and turns back to the podium. His daughter has a limited understanding of the competition world but what she does know involves both her fathers on the medal stand whenever they race. And though he's told Ryan and everyone else that he's okay with this particular result, it hurts a little.  
  
(Okay, it hurts a lot.)  
  
Ryan steps up and Ellis starts clapping with the rest of Team USA. He's witnessed Ryan’s medal ceremonies before, stood beside him for many of them, but this time is different.  
  
It's different because he's not up there on the podium with Ryan, as much as he'd wanted to be. It's different because this is his last Olympics. It's different because he's holding their daughter and he knows everyone thinks that she’s Ryan’s illegitimate child by some random woman.  
  
(The worst is that he allows them to think this, that it’s only his inaction that keeps the world from knowing that Ellis is his, too. Even though Ellis has Ryan’s eyes, she definitely has Michael’s ears. He likes to pretend sometimes that someone would make the connection on their own if confronted with enough evidence, but that’s not realistic. He gives them no reason to connect the dots.)  
  
While the flags are raised the national anthem is played and Michael watches as Ryan stands there with his hand flat on his chest, motionless. The team is singing — Ellis sings nonsense to go along with the melody, they really have to teach her the words — but Michael can only watch Ryan as Ryan is staring at the flag.  
  
Michael knows what goes through his own head on the medal stand for the 400IM. He knows what he’d be thinking if he were up there.  
  
_Love this. Love him. Love her. Mom’s probably crying again. Shit shit shit, don’t cry, Ry will never let you live it down. Breathe. Focus on the flag. Smile. Wave._  
  
In other words, the same things he’s thinking now. Somehow, he keeps the tears from spilling down his cheeks. He chalks that up to practice. He’s had a lot of that.  
  
The anthem ends and then finally that smile breaks across Ryan’s face as he waves to the crowd and throws a kiss to Ellis. She waves back to him and then Ryan is motioning Thiago and Kosuke up to the gold medal podium and they're posing for the cameras with their medals in their hands..  
  
With press that will go late into the night, it’ll be awhile before they can sit down for dinner together and by then Ellis will be long asleep at the P &G house with Ryan’s mom. She’s already starting to fade, her weight settling incrementally against his body and her thumb ending up in her mouth more often than not.  
  
Ryan’s making the circuit around the pool for medal photos, stopping in front of Team USA at the end. Michael is nearing the point where he can’t ignore the attendant any longer — she left him alone for the medal ceremony itself, at least — and has to find either his mom or Ryan’s to take Ellis. But then Ryan is waving him down to the media pool and Michael thinks, _oh, this is what he was planning_.  
  
_Day One, really?_ Michael mouths at him and Ryan just pulls a confused face and shakes his head. He holds out his arms and Michael realizes he’s misread the situation, his feathers ruffled for no reason. Ryan just wants to hold Ellis while he has a chance, not publicly out them without Michael’s express permission like Michael was kind of assuming.  
  
Michael feels like kind of a dick.  
  
It doesn’t take long to get down to the deck once the attendants realize what’s going on. While they don’t like a child in the wrong section of the stands, they seem to be okay with a child on the pool deck with a medal winner. Michael tries hard not to roll his eyes. Ryan climbs up the media’s carpeted seating area and meets them at the railing.  
  
“Deezy!” Ellis yells as Michael hands her over the railing.  
  
“Hi, baby girl!”  
  
“Your new necklace is _big_!” she says, reaching for the medal and hefting it in her little hands. “It’s _heavy_!”  
  
Michael stands awkwardly nearby as the cameras flash around his daughter and husband, photographers with no idea he’s the missing piece of the puzzle, no idea even that this puzzle isn’t complete. The attendant is displeased with his presence, but realizes _someone_ is going to have to take Ellis back up to her grandmother and someone she seems to know and at least tolerate is the best option. Michael idly wonders if the Beijing staff would have been so grudgingly accommodating.  
  
Probably not, he decides, watching Ryan nuzzle their daughter’s cheek and whisper something likely nonsensical in her ear. He’s stood on the outside looking in on their special bond too many times to count, but never felt so alone in it as he does now. Ryan looks up to lock eyes with Michael and Michael feels their connection burning hot. Michael goes in for a bro hug over the railing, aching to lean in for a kiss, too, and makes a decision as he takes Ellis back into his arms. When he’s done, he’ll give Ryan what he needs. Turns out, Michael needs it too.  
  
\---  
  
They manage to find a few moments alone on the way back to the dorms, everyone else in their block of rooms fast asleep and resting up for the next day of competition.  
  
They holds hands while they can, able to touch only in these stolen moments. Michael searches for something light to say, something that won’t take them on an emotional rollercoaster after the day’s events. “Almost spilled over watching you up there” is what he comes up with and that doesn’t seem like a very safe topic, actually.  
  
“Jeah?”  
  
“Yeah, but Ellis dug her heel into a kidney and jerked me out of the moment.” _Nice save_.  
  
Ryan tugs Michael closer and slides his arm around his waist. “She does that! It’s like her feet are, like, chemically attracted to kidneys. I remember when ... when I was carrying her, she would kick mine from the inside. At least I think those were my kidneys. Back here, right?” Ryan rubs Michael’s lower back through his shirt and jacket, then his hand wanders and slips down to his waistband.  
  
Michael’s mouth quirks up into a smile. “Well, close enough.” He looks up and down the hall quickly and, seeing no one, pulls Ryan to him for a quick kiss. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he whispers, folding Ryan in his arms for a tight hug.  
  
“I’m proud of you, too. Fourth in the world after only nine months of training? Baller.”  
  
“But seriously, you’re never going to talk me into anything ever again.”  
  
The feeling of Ryan laughing in his arms is what keeps him going for the next few days.  
  
\---  
  
The rest of the week is _go go go_ with some more disappointments — the two fly, Ryan’s two back -- and some incredible highs — the medley, the fly — and so little time for their family that if Michael wasn’t really damn sure this was his last Olympics coming in, there would be no doubt now.  
  
Bob’s meet management plan doesn’t take into account Day Five, either. Of all oversights to have, Michael is pretty pissed this was Bob’s mistake to make for London. Physically, Michael is fine. He’s felt better, but he’s also four years older than the last time he was in this position. His _physical_ taper is spot-on but emotionally, he’s a wreck.  
  
_i thought worlds would be a good practice :,(_ is what Ryan texts him after yet another moment of passing like ships in the night.  
  
_i am never doing this again_ is what Michael texts back.  
  
It is that moment, on Day Five, when Michael begins to ache for retirement.  
  
\---  
  
He can’t stop smiling because _he’s done_. If he doesn’t want to cool down, he doesn’t have to. If he doesn’t want to eat a solid, tasteless recovery meal, _he doesn’t have to_. And if he doesn’t want to keep the most meaningful parts of his life a secret anymore? _He doesn’t fucking have to_. It was always his choice, he realized, and now that the moment has arrived he knows he made the right decision four years ago, and he’s making the right decision now.  
  
So he waves Ryan down from the stands. Pool swimming is over, the attendants had stopped trying to keep Ryan from doing what he wanted shortly after his second medal ceremony, and the fans are clearing out as Michael stands on the deck holding his trophy.  
  
The trophy is ridiculous. He’d had no idea FINA had put anything together for him and a little zing of pride had shot through him when he’d been presented with it. He’s found himself babbling about Michael Jordan more than once. The emotions were already hard to keep in check and the trophy presentation threatened triggering a spillover.  
  
That’s what Ryan had been calling it the last couple of days, the point that Michael hasn’t yet reached when it comes to Olympic displays of emotion.  
  
_“You keep the tears in your eyes, but like, they never spill over. I don’t know how you do it, man. Part of why I’m doing Rio is because I can’t imagine the ending being so close.”_  
  
_Michael had shrugged. “I dunno, I just think about you and Ellie and I don’t feel like anything important’s ending.”_  
  
On the pool deck, he’s already embraced Bob, thanked him profusely. They’d had a moment in the warm-up pool before, just the two of them. Michael has a minute or so holding the trophy aloft before Ryan and his puzzled expression make it down to the deck. Ellis is draped over his shoulder and Michael can’t see her face, but he can tell that she is passed out. He smiles even bigger than before, and a peace settles in his heart.  
  
As Ryan approaches, shielding their daughter’s eyes from a few photographers, Michael looks to Bob and says, “I’m going to do it.” Bob just nods like this is part of his lifelong plan for Michael, just another check next to the list of triumphs, something he’s been expecting to happen for awhile now. (Who’s Michael kidding? Bob has probably had this on his list since before Michael even realized he and Ryan were dating.)  
  
And then Ryan is in front of him. Michael passes the award off to Bob (Michael has lost count of how many times in his life he’s done that) and lets Ryan envelop him in that “congrats, teammate” hug that they’ve perfected for the public.  
  
Ellis shifts a little between them and as Ryan pulls back, the spillover starts to prick at his eyelids.Their right hands are still clasped. Michael feels the ring Ryan wears on his finger, something they’d picked out together after Ryan had expressed an interest in some kind of outward symbol of their devotion. Michael has a new set of matching rings waiting at home.  
  
“Congrats, bro!” Ryan smiles, his eyes confused. He’s still playing their public role, trying to hold back. Michael can feel the tension in his arms, the physical manifestation of how unnatural this is for them, Ryan especially. Two years on and off followed by five solid years of commitment and this is the last time he’ll have to stand here and pretend Ryan is nothing but a close friend and his daughter is just a friend’s child.  
  
Michael laughs and pulls him close again, this time how he knows Ryan needs. After only a moment Ryan figures it out and the arm not steadying Ellis against his body comes up around him. Michael whispers, “I want the world to know you’re both mine. Are you okay with that?”  
  
He can feel Ryan’s smile in the relaxation of his body. “Okay? Baby, I’m ecstatic.”  
  
“She asleep?”  
  
Ryan pulls back and turns around enough for Michael to see his daughter’s face. “Dead to the world. Really loud here tonight and as soon as the anthem started up, she started her little baby snoring.” He looks up at Michael. “You don’t have to.”  
  
But Michael smiles, shakes his head, and leans forward just enough to press a chaste kiss to Ryan’s mouth. “I love you.”  
  
Ryan’s grin says it all.  
  
_Jeah!_  
  
(They’ll find out later that the trophy ceremony and following familial display doesn’t make the cut for NBC’s primetime coverage. It does, however, make the front page of USA Today, and not just the Olympics section, either.)  
  
\---  
  
Everything had started in Greece.  
  
Michael was high on eight medals and sunshine and distracted from everything actually important by the valiant attempts he was making to convince everyone he didn’t _really_ think he was a failure because of those two bronzes. This was difficult because everyone _actually_ thought he was a failure because of those two bronzes. Not that the one was really his fault — who was predicting the South Africans to so thoroughly trounce everyone? — and no one could blame him in good conscience for wanting to swim with the world’s best in the two free.  
  
But anyway. Six golds and two bronzes.  
  
And everyone was sufficiently blinded — by the glint of that sunshine off those golds? — to let him continue on just like that, flashing a toothy smile and awkwardly guffawing every time he was caught by surprise by his sudden fame and the new weight of expectations he thought he’d be able to avoid for another four years.  
  
Everyone smiled and waved except Ryan Lochte.  
  
They were wasted on ouzo in some dark club that waived cover for anyone with a medal. Ryan had cornered Michael in a booth, Amanda Beard blocking his exit. Whereas Michael’s life for the past eight years had been _swimming swimming swimming_ and an eye toward some as-yet-unannounced location in 2012, Ryan’s life was surfing, skateboarding, _college_ , and swimming like it was something that he actually enjoyed.  
  
(Not that Michael ever _hated_ swimming. Yeah, he hated practices, he hated that black line, he hated the monotony and the constant smell of chlorine clinging to fucking _everything_ especially after that meet somewhere with the bad circulation and everyone was puking because they had chlorine poisoning and he also hated whiny teammates who shaved laps and the weight schedule waiting for him when he got to Michigan, but he never hated _swimming_. Bob, sometimes, but never swimming.)  
  
They’d hooked up back at the Village, messy and fumbling and confusing (to Michael at least, who hadn’t done much of anything with anyone yet). Ryan didn’t stop smiling the entire time, and the first time Michael came was because Ryan had laughed with Michael’s cock down his throat. Mortified, Michael had tried to hide his face but Ryan would have none of it.  
  
“I know how good I am. Show me how good you can be.”

And Michael wasn’t very, that night, and they were strictly friends for the next year or so. But sometime, between all the texts and the friendly visits and the minutes together at meets next to each other in the pool, Michael realized what Ryan had meant by what he said to him in that bar in Athens.  
  
_“I see you, Michael Phelps.”_  
  
The missing four words that should have trailed after his name were too much for a drunk Ryan to let loose. _For who you are._  
  
What Ryan gave to him all those years ago was a new way of looking at life. It turned out that what unsettled Michael about Ryan was how easily he seemed to fit into Michael’s life. Seamlessly, like he’d belonged all along. This was unsettling because Michael was sure he already had his life figured out. All the nooks and crannies had already been filled, and then came Ryan Lochte, laughing at him and shaking everything up until it fell back into place around him. And then, later, adding a new life to his.  
  
It turned out Michael had been missing out on a lot. He thinks about what it would be like if they hadn’t hooked up that first time in Athens. Maybe they would have just become friends. Michael can imagine that alternate universe, which would probably look the same to everyone else looking in because Ryan’s kind of a handsy guy anyway, touch-starved and affectionate. But in that alternate universe, the spectre of retirement would be looming on the other side of the Atlantic.  
  
Here and now, with his daughter’s future to look forward to and a semi-permanent home in Florida to occupy during the winter, Michael can look forward to the end of his career. Ryan has given him something other than swimming to be good at.

What a gift.  
  
What a relief.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a combination of a few stories I wanted to write, including the one referenced in the endnotes of Curam. This is kind of a story about how they began, and though I started out to make the story revolve around the daughter, it ended up more about Michael's retirement. If you know me, this is not very much of a shock.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this! I certainly enjoyed writing it and sharing it with all of you.


End file.
